The Last Loud House on the Left
by Flagg1991
Summary: Two violent ex-cons set their sights on the Loud family, especially the Loud girls. Cover by rag.
1. Going up the Country

Author's Note:

This story is partially inspired by the 1972 Wes Craven movie "The Last House on the Left" and by the real life crimes of Roy Norris and Lawrence Bittaker. So far this is all I've written, though I have plans to write and upload chapters in episodic installments. I could use some encouragement, so if you like the first chapter here, be sure to let me know.

In his first forty-eight hours of freedom, John Krog killed three people.

In his defense, none of them were premeditated. They just kind of...happened, the way things do sometimes. The first was a travelling salesman he hitched a ride out of Indiana with, a big, fat, sweaty man in a rumpled brown suit that reminded Krog of old southern lawyers he'd seen in movies. _I say, I say, objection, your honor!_ The salesman (whose name Krog didn't remember) was headed for Des Moines. Krog was on his way to (, and fatso made it clear that he wouldn't take him all the way. "That's a hundred miles out of my way. Best I can do is Chicago."

"That's fine, man, I appreciate it," Krog had said, but instantly began scheming. He couldn't carjack the guy. He just did twelve years for kidnapping. If he took the guy's car and let him live, he'd be back in jail before the sun rose. So...he decided to kill him.

He did the deed in a truck stop just over the Illinois state line. Fatty was draining it in a urinal, completely defenseless. Krog came up behind him, wrapped his musclear forearm around the bloated shit's neck, and squeezed. When he was sure the salesman was dead, he stooped over, took the keys from his pocket, and three twenty dollar bills from his wallet.

To Krog's delight, he found a snub nosed revolver in the glovebox. Way to go, fatty, he thought with a smirk.

The second was the clerk at an all-night liquor store north of Chicago. Krog did that one for the hell of it. The third was a woman he picked up hitchhiking fifteen miles past the Michigan border. He marched her out into the woods at gunpoint, ordered her to strip, and raped her. He wasn't proud, but he lost control: Bit her lower lip off and dug his thumbs into her neck so hard he drew blood. Hours passed in what seemed like minutes, and by the time he left, dawn was coloring the eastern sky.

An hour later, he stopped for breakfast at a diner two towns over from his destination. When he was done, he found a payphone near the bathrooms, and called Ferret.

He answered on the third ring with a sleepy "Hello?"

"Ferret," Krog said with a smile, "it's Krog."

The sleep drained from Ferret's voice. "Hey, are you here?"

"I'm about half an hour out." As he spoke, Krog watched a pretty young girl walk through the front door and cross to the counter. He rubbed his dry mouth with his hand and fought the dark urges rising within him.

"You have everything ready?"

Krog and Ferret had been cellmates at North Pine State Prison. Ferret, real name James Murphey, was in for fraud, or at least that's what he told everyone else. He was really in for molesting an eleven-year-old girl. Krog wasn't the type of person who got along well with others, but he found in Ferret a kindred spirit. They shared many of the same urges, the same fantasies. It was Ferret who suggested hooking up when they got out and "taking a girl for every "teen" year." Ferret's plan was to rape (and murder) one thireen-year-old girl, one fourteen-year-old girl, and so on. Krog liked the idea a lot. Since Ferret got out first, it was up to him to prepare the way.

"I got the van, I got the pad, everything's all set. I'm just waiting for you."

"Alright," Krog said. He was already getting excited. "I'll be there quicker than you can say 'homicide.'"

Ferret laughed deeply.

Krog hung up and went outside. The sun was high and hot, the dry August wind blowing over him like a furnace blast. In the car, he turned on the radio, found a station playing oldies, and set a course for the town of Royal Pines.


	2. A Very Loud Morning

Eleven-year-old Lincoln Loud made it to the bathroom before anyone else. The house was still and quiet; he couldn't even hear any snoring.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Lincoln shut the door and went to the sink. He grinned at his reflection. _When you have ten sisters,_ he thought, _getting a hot shower doesn't happen often_.

Still smiling, he stripped, hopped into the shower, and turned it on. He got the water just the way he liked it, and was reaching for his body wash when someone pounded on the door, startling him.

"Lincoln!" It was Lori, he oldest sister. She sounded pissed. Lincoln couldn't suppress a thrill of satisfaction. Lori almost always got the first shower of the day. By the time his turn came around, the water was tepid at best. Often it was ice cold.

"Early bird gets the worm," Lincoln said in a singsong voice, making sure he spoke loud enough to be heard over the hiss of water.

Lori hit the door again. "Hurry up!"

Instead of hurrying, Lincoln took his sweet time, washing every nook and cranny twice.

Another bang.

"I'm almost done!"

"Lincoln?" it was Leni this time, his second oldest sister. "Lincoln, I have to pee really bad. Can I come in?"

Lincoln's face crinkled. "No!"

"Please! I have to go _really_ bad."

Lincoln sighed. "Alright."

Leni let out a happy _eeee_ , and came in. "Thank you, Lincy!" she said. Lincoln plugged his ears with his fingers so he wouldn't hear her doing her business, and winced at the strange feeling of water in his ear canals.

When he heard the toilet flush, he waited a few moments, then poked his head through the curtain just in time to see Leni closing the bathroom door behind her. Alone, he cut the water, toweled off, and dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a polo shirt. When he came out in a puff of steam, Lori was leaning against the wall, texting.

Lincoln sighed contentedly. "It's all yours, sis."

Lori sighed and went wordlessly into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. "Love you, too," Lincoln said. On his way back to his room, he met two of his sisters: Luan ducked out of her room and sprayed him with a seltzer bottle. The liquid stung his eyes. Blind, he let out a tiny scream and tripped over something.

"Ouch!"

It was Lisa, his second to youngest sister.

Luan was laughing.

"Have a nice trip?"

Groaning, Lincoln rolled off of Lisa and rubbed his eyes. When he opened them, the sunlight streaming into the hall hurt. Lisa, seemingly unperturbed, stood and dusted herself off.

"Yet again a victim of remedial comedy techniques," she sighed.

"That wasn't remedial," Luan said, "it was hilarious."

"Ninety years ago," Lisa said, and continued on her way.

"You okay, Linc?" Luan asked. Her voice was suddenly edged with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Lincoln said and got to his feet.

Back in his room (which was in actuality a converted linen closet), Lincoln changed out of his wet shirt and into a new one. _When you have ten sisters,_ he thought, dropping the soiled garment into his overflowing laundry basket, _getting through the day without a wardrobe change is a miracle_.

For a moment, he paused, certain that he had spoken aloud.

 _You gotta quit it._

He had developed the habit of talking to himself when he was a child. Before he was ten, he would do it out loud, and probably sounded crazy. Luckily, Lisa, who was a scientific genius, helped him break the habit.

"It's obviously a coping mechanism," she had said. "Your way to creating the attention you find lacking due to having to share affection with ten other people."

He figured she was right. _When you have ten sisters, sometimes you get lost in the mix._

There! He did it again! At least this time he knew he didn't say it aloud.

Shaking his head, he went downstairs for breakfast.

As always in the Loud household, mealtimes were what some of the older kids on Xbox Live called a "clusterfuck." Breakfast, lunch, and dinners were veritable circuses, with everyone talking, laughing, joking, arguing, annoying one another, and generally acting like pigs. Today, Lynn and Lana, the two resident tomboys, were bickering over whether or not Lana could catch. So suddenly it took everyone by surprise, Lynn threw a balled up piece of paper at Lana's face: It struck, bounced off, and landed in the pitcher of orange juice dad had squeezed specifically for breakfast.

Everyone groaned.

"Nice going," Lori said.

"I'm not drinking that," Lola said haughtily.

"Way to make a splash," Luan said, and chuckled.

By the time it was over, Lincoln was on sensory overload. If he didn't get some fresh air soon, he'd scream.

After morning chores were finished, Lincoln hopped on his bike and rode over to his best friend Clyde's house. Clyde and his dads, however, weren't home. Lincoln didn't remember Clyde saying anything about a vacation or a day trip, so he shrugged and assumed he'd be home soon.

From Clyde's, he pedaled aimlessly across town, enjoying the sunshine. In ten days, school would start again, and he wouldn't be able to spend his days biking, playing video games, and hanging out with Clyde, which made him sad, but he liked school. He wasn't the best student in the world, but he did well enough, and had enough friends, that he actually enjoyed going.

Lincoln was so lost in thought that he didn't realize he had started across Main Street until the sound of shrieking brakes and a pounding horn assaulted him, driving his heart into his throat. He hit his own brakes and turned to the car that had almost hit him, his breath coming in short, hot gasps.

A man with bushy black hair and a narrow face stuck his head out the open driver side window. "Hey, dumbass, how 'bout you watch where you're going?"

Lincoln looked into the man's eyes, and shuddered. There was something in them that disturbed him.

Muttering "Sorry," Lincoln got back underway. When he looked back again, the car was gone.


	3. Death Comes to Town

At 9:59am on August 18, Death arrived in Royal Pines. It was driving a battered brown four door sedan with Oklahoma plates. The windows were down. The radio was on. Motley Crue was belting out "Ten Seconds to Love," and John Krog was smiling.

It was surreal to him that he was finally here, standing on the precipice of a new (and exhilarating) chapter. Since he and Ferret had hatched "The Project," he had been looking forward to putting it into action with all the patience of a child waiting for Santa on Christmas Eve. He imagined all the things he and Ferret would do, all the girls they would have. In the beginning, neither he nor Ferret brought up killing their victims. They didn't need to. It was a fantasy, and in fantasy, no pesky highway patrolmen pulled up over for a broken taillight and found a body in your trunk, and no captive ever broke free and fled, naked and screaming, a pair of handcuffs still dangling from her wrist. Unless you wanted them too.

Once they decided once and for all to put their plan into action, Krog asked the million dollar question: "What do we do with 'em?"

Ferret, looking stupid, shrugged. "Fuck 'em?" He tittered.

"I mean after."

Ferret shrugged. "I dunno."

"Well, we can't just let 'em go," Krog said, using the soft, firm tone he often employed to get his way. He didn't know if Ferret would be up to committing murder.

Ferret's mind whirled for a long time before he seemed to understand. A toothy smile flashed across his rodent face.

Krog smiled back.

Ferret held a thumb to his own neck and mimed cutting.

Krog nodded.

Presently, Krog followed Main Street past what looked like an old foundry, and then a rush of shops which constituted Royal Pines' downtown. He was three blocks from the address Ferret gave him when a kid on a bike darted out in front of him. Krog slammed on the brakes, his heart jumping into his throat, and hit the horn. The kid came to a hard stop and jerked around, his stupid face white and shaken.

Anger rose in Krog. He stuck his head out the window. "Hey, dumbass, how 'bout you watch where you're going?"

He and the kid locked eyes for a moment, then the kid looked down and pedaled off. For a moment Krog watched him, then drove off.

Shaking his head, he followed Ferret's directions to an alleyway. _122 Elm._ Krog looked up. 122 was painted over a doorway. Piles of trash bags were heaped on either side, providing only a narrow walkway. Krog sighed. Nice one, Ferret. You found the one place in all of Michigan as bad as prison.

Krog killed the engine and got out, his nose crinkling at the smell of hot garbage. He went to the door and knocked impatiently.

On the second knock, the door opened, and Ferret appeared, a small, rat-faced man with graying hair and a week's growth of stubble on his chin. He was wearing a dingy wifebeater and a pair of dirty jeans. When he saw Krog, he broke out in an idiot smile that Krog couldn't help return.

"There you are," Ferret said happily.

Krog shrugged. "Here I am."

"Come in."

Ferret moved aside, and Krog stepped in. The first thing he noticed was the smell. It was moldy, mildewy, with a hint of onions and dirty feet. The second was the general state of disarray. The apartment was a living room with dirty brown industrial carpet, and a tiny kitchenette with cracked linoleum floors. The walls were stained with food, dirt, water damage, and God only knew what else.

"Jesus, Ferret. You had _one_ job."

"Get things together," Ferret said. "And here they are."

Krog didn't press the matter. "You got a cigarette?"

"Sure."

Ferret fumbled one out of a crumpled pack and handed it to him. He took it, and a lighter, and lit it. They sat at the folding table under the front window.

"You want some coffee?"

"Yeah," Krog said. Ferret nodded and brewed a pot of instant. As they drink, they talked.

"When do you want to get started?" Ferret asked with a smile, a wicked little light dancing in his eyes.

"I don't know," Krog said. "I need to crash for a little."

Ferret nodded. "Alright. When you wake up, I got something to show you. I think you're going to like it."

"Yeah?" Krog asked.

Ferret smiled stupidly and nodded.


	4. Horsing Around

Lincoln returned home just after noon, sweaty and pleasantly weary. He could feel the first twinges of a sunburn on his cheeks, but he didn't mind.

He parked his bike next to the garage and went in through the back door. Lola and Lana were playing tea party. Lana was covered in mud and insisting that her frog wanted more tea. Lola exasperatedly pointed out that the frog hadn't even finished his first cup. "He still wants more!" Lana protested.

In the kitchen, dad was at the counter, making sandwiches and singing to himself. When Lincoln entered, he looked up and smiled. "Hey, son, you're just in time for lunch!"

Dad handed Lincoln a paper plate laden with a sandwich and crinkle cut chips. "Thanks, dad, I'm starved."

He sat at the table and dug in. Soon he was joined by Lucy, Lisa, and Luna, the latter scribbling in a notebook as she ate.

"What are you writing?" Lincoln asked.

"I'm adding to one of Lucy's poems so we can turn it into a song."

"What's to add?" Lucy asked in her characteristic monotone. "It has everything. Suffering, death, and angst."

"Yeah, but it's, like, five lines long. It has to be longer."

When Lincoln was done, he threw his plate into the trash and went upstairs. Lynn came out of her room carrying a basketball and bumped into him. "Hey, bro, wanna shoot some hoops?"

Lincoln started to protest, but the look in her eyes stopped him. Not many of his sisters were willing to indulge Lynn's athletic interests, so most of the time, he either had to step in, or she'd wind up playing by herself. Not that he minded. He enjoyed spending time with his sisters. When you had ten of them, you rarely got quality one-on-one time with them.

"Sure, just let me change."

"Awesome," she said, bounding happily away. "Thanks, Lincoln!"

"Don't mention it."

In his room, he stripped out of his jeans and pulled on a pair of silky blue basketball shorts. He replaced his polo shirt with a white T shirt. In the hallway, Leni was wandering aimlessly around, looking lost.

"Are you okay?" Lincoln asked.

"I can't find my sunglasses _anywhere_ , and I need them when me and Lori go to the mall."

Lincoln giggled. "They're on your head."

Leni stopped, reached up, and touched her sunglasses. "Oh. Thanks, Lincy!"

"You're welcome."

Outside, Lynn was dribbling her ball on the driveway. When Lincoln arrived, she tossed it to him, and he caught it. "Nice catch!"

Lincoln smiled. It _was_ a nice catch. Despite being the only boy in the house, Lincoln wasn't interested in sports, as one might expect him to be. Sometimes it made him feel bad about himself that Lynn was so good while he, the boy, wasn't. He was supposed to be good at sports, and losing to his sister, or simply looking weak when compared to her, wounded his pride.

"Alright," Lynn said, squatting and bouncing from one foot to the other, "one-on-one. Show me what you got."

Lincoln dribbled the ball, buying himself a few seconds to plan his strategy. Lynn stood between him and the hoop. If he ducked right, she would get him for sure. If he ducked left, he might have a chance, since Lynn was a righty. He'd have to dribble with his left hand to keep the ball as far away from her as possible.

Taking a deep breath, his made his move, switching from right to left and charging past his sister. She tried to come in, but Lincoln reflexively elbowed her, hitting her in the collarbone. She gasped and stumbled back. He shoots, he...misses. Damn.

"That wasn't fair!" Lynn yelled. "You elbowed me!"

"Sorry," Lincoln replied, feeling geniuenly bad, "I..."

Lynn went in low and grabbed his right leg, nearly upsetting him. He flailed back, but kept his balance. He caught her around the neck and leaned forward, but she shifted her weight, and they both fell to the pavement in a laughing heap.

"Not bad, bro," Lynn said, "you're getting better."

"Thanks. I have a pretty good teacher."

She punched him on the arm. "Don't get mushy on me, Loud."

Lynn got to her feet and helped him up. "Alright. Let's try this again, but no elbows this time."

By the time they were done, they were both sweating and out of breath. Lynn was the winner, 11-9. _Not bad,_ Lincoln thought. There was one a time when she would beat him 11-0.

They parted by mutual consent, and Lincoln went inside. Upstairs, Luna and Luan's door was open. Luna was lying on her bed and strumming her guitar. Lucy on the edge of the bed next to her, frowning.

When Luna saw him, she sat up, "Hey, bro, can you help us out?"

"Sure," Lincoln said, coming in. Luan was sitting in her own bed, focused on her laptop. She was probably looking up new material for her act.

"How does this sound?"

Luna played a few riffs. Lincoln shrugged. "Sounds fine to me."

"Lucy says it's too 'happy'."

"It is."

"Well," Lincoln said, "what's the song about?"

"Vampires coming out of their graves and drinking human blood," Lucy said.

Lincoln blinked. Lucy, with her black hair and pale skin, could be a strange little girl sometimes.

"I guess if that's what it's about, it _does_ sound too happy."

"Ha," Lucy said.

Luna sighed. "Alright. We'll start over."

"Hey, Linc," Luan said suddenly. "Wanna hear a dirty joke?"

Lincoln blinked again. He liked dirty jokes as much as the next kid, but not from his sister.

Before he could reply, Luan followed through with, "Pig fell in the mud!"

That was one of the oldest jokes in book, but Lincoln had to admit, she got him. "Nice one."

"Wanna hear a clean joke?"

"What?"

"Pig took a bath!"

Lincoln laughed even though it wasn't funny. Luna simply sighed and shook her head.

"Watch out, _Comedy Central,_ " Lincoln said.

Luan smiled prettily. "Thank you. I am good, aren't I?"

In his room, Lincoln sat on his bed and took his shoes off. Then he laid back and took a comic book out from under his pillow. He read by golden afternoon sunshine, and everything was right in the world.


	5. The Murder Machine

Krog sat in the passenger seat of the black panel van Ferret had dubbed "The Murder Machine," a Styrofoam cup of gas station coffee between his legs and sunglasses covering his aching eyes. He slept for only two hours, curling up on a ratty cot Ferret dragged in and sat in the middle of the living room. The tickle of cockroaches crawling across his skin woke him, and he decided he didn't need the sleep; he wanted to see what Ferret had for him.

After fetching the van from a garage across the street, they drove north along Center Street before cutting west. They passed a park where kids swung, slid, and played soccer in a big, open field. Krog caught Ferret ogling them, and flicked cigarette ash at him. "Keep your eyes on the road, will you? You're gonna get us killed."

They stopped a 7-11, and Krog got a coffee and a Natty Ice tallboy for later. Ferret got a hotdog, a bottle of Coke, and a couple cans of Budweiser.

"So where's this fuckin place you were telling me about?"

When pressed before they left, Ferret called it "Paradise City." Krog wasn't in the mood for games, but didn't push him any further. Now, they were navigating a newtwork of residential streets. Kids rode bikes, played hopscotch, and ran mindlessly back and forth like retards, whooping and hollering as they went. It was enough to give Krog a headache, so he turned up the radio. AC/DC was screaming their way through "Shoot to Thrill."

"Just up here," Ferret said, taking a left. He was trembling with anticipation, his eyes wide and his tongue massaging his lower lip. With his sallow complextion, sunken eyes, and constant movement, he reminded Krog of a junkie.

Tapping his fingers restlessly against the steering wheel in time to the music, Ferret took an illegal U-turn at a wide intersection and pulled to a stop along the curb.

He tossed a twitchy glance out the window and then looked at Krog, a mad smile on his face. "There it is. Paradise City. Just like I said."

Krog leaned forward and tried to look through the driver side window. A big two story house at on a corner, its lawn strewn with toys, debris, and other things Krog didn't have the energy to name.

"Yeah? What am I looking at?"

Ferret tittered. "John Krog, meet the Loud family."

As if on cue, the front door opened and two blonde girls in their late teens came out. Krog watched as they made their way toward a shitty van in the driveway, his loins stirring.

Ferret laughed again. "You like?"

Krog shushed him and watched as the girls climbed into the van. From here, he couldn't see many details, but the one with the white sunglasses was his choice of the day. She bounced along with an exuberant step, bespeaking innocence and youth. The other one walked along like the kind of bitch you picked up in a bar and got VD from.

Before the girls could reach the van, the front door opened again, and another girl came out, this one shorter and noticeably younger than the other two. She woke a ponytail and a skirt.

Ferret's breathing changed. Became more ragged, like a dog on the hunt. "That's my favorite," he said. "Luan."

Luan conversed with the other girls for a moment, and was soon joined by another girl, this one about Luan's age, but with dark hair and bangs.

"What, do they got 'em comin off a conveyer belt?" Krog asked, gesturing with his cigarette.

"There's nine of 'em," Ferret said. He was still transfixed on Luan. "One's a baby, and I don't like 'em that young, so eight. Eight pretty little princesses."

Krog whistled. "That's a lot of girl power."

"I'm pretty sure they got one girl for every teen year," Ferret said. The two blonds got into the van while the others wandered away. They backed into the street, and started heading south.

"Follow 'em," Krog said.

Ferret was watching Luan still.

"I said follow them!" Krog shouted.

Jerking from his reprieve, Ferret threw the van into drive and started after the oldest Loud girls.

"How do you know so much about these people?" Krog asked. He took one final drag of his cigarette and threw it out the window.

"I was their garbage man for eight months," Ferret said and laughed. "You'd be surprised what your trash says about you."

Krog smiled, his mind working. A plan presented itself, vague at first, but as they got farther away from the city center, it solidified.

"What do we have in the back?" he asked.

The cargo compartment of the van was filled with metal boxes soldered to the floor. There were also cabinets above.

"See for yourself," Ferret said.

"Why don't you just fucking _tell_ me?"

"I can't remember it all, Krog," Ferret pleaded.

Sighing, Krog slipped into the back and examined their inventory.

What he found stunned him.

Pilar's, hammers, vises, jumper cables, handcuffs, whips, chains, rope, knives, duct tape, zip ties of various sizes, ball-gags, and a thousand other wicked looking instruments. Krog marveled at them. He was riding in a literal mobile torture chamber.

He nodded appreciatively.

"You're a good man, Ferret," he whispered.


	6. Kidnapped

Lori Loud pulled onto the interstate and followed it for five miles. Next to her, Leni prattled on about all the things she was going to buy at the mall. "Moisturizing cream, bath beads, uhh...what else?"

"Perfume," Lori supplied as she navigated around a Mac truck.

"Oh, right. And bath beads."

Lori chuckled at her sister's ditziness. Even though it got old at times, Lori secretly found it cute.

"What are you getting, Lori?"

"New shoes," she said. "These are falling apart."

Lori had been wearing her current shoes for a little over four months. Not very long at all. She didn't walk right, though (according to everyone else). Her steps were too firm, too fast. She didn't know. It's not like she ran track and field or anything.

"Oh, I saw these cute shoes that would be _perfect_ for you. You should try them."

"Okay," Lori said absently. She glanced in the rearview mirror (barely taking note of the black panel van two car lengths behind), and changed lanes. Up on the left, the mall appeared, its glass façade twinkling in the light of the summer sun. Lori took Exit 5 and followed a surface street to the mall's entrance.

"Maybe there'll be cute boys," Leni said, shaking with excitement.

"It's the mall, sis," Lori said as she pulled into a parking spot and killed the engine. "There are always cute boys."

She winked at Leni and got out. "Come on. I don't want to be here all day."

Lori liked the mall enough, but she wasn't one of those girls who got lost in it all day, walking around agog at all the pretty, sparkly things. She would rather get in, get what she needed, do a _little_ browsing, and go. Leni, on the other hand, could pass an entire week in there.

Lori waited for Leni to get out, and noticed the black van from earlier creeping past. An ugly man with a rat-face craned his neck to look at her.

The van slowed, and the man kept looking. Now, Lori was fair. If a man wanted to steal a quick look at her, that was fine (flattering, even), but virtually eye-fucking her was too much. She flipped him off, and giggled when she hurriedly looked away and almost crashed into a sports car backing out of a slot. By the time Leni was ready, the van was gone.

 _Creep._

Inside, the mall's spacious lobby was cool and relatively empty. A large, bubbling fountain dominated the room. Kids in skinny jeans and black T shirts sat around the fountain, lost in their phones.

"Ooo, where do we go first?" Leni asked excitedly.

"I'm going to Payless. You can go wherever you want."

Lori started toward her destination, and Leni followed, looking back and forth so fast and often that Lori was surprised she wasn't giving herself whiplash. "Ooo, look at that!" "Look at this!" "Oh, this is so cute!"

By the time Lori had reached Payless, Leni had wandered off somewhere. Lori checked her watch and mentally noted the time: 4:02. If she didn't encounter Leni before five, she'd text her.

Going up and down the aisles, Lori selected several different pairs of shoes and took them to a bench. She tried on each, walking around in them to see how they felt. One pair was just a bit too big, another was just a bit too small. One fit great, but it was gray with white trim, and Lori thought they were ugly.

After another fifteen minutes of fruitless searching, she decided to get the gray pair after all. Function over form, she thought. She took them to the register, paid the bored looking clerk, and then went off in search of the things her siblings asked her to get. A tube of tennis balls from Dick's for Lynn, a comedy DVD from FYE for Luan (Jeff Dunham? Girl, your tastes are going down the tubes), and a few comic books from Books-A-Million for Lincoln.

By 4:50, she was done, and sitting at a table in the food court. She wasn't hungry when she sat, but after a few minutes of smelling the good aromas of food, she got a slice of pizza and ate it while she flipped through one of Lincoln's comic books.

So much violence. This one got his teeth punched in, that one got his arm ripped off, that one over there took a bullet to the face. So much blood and guts couldn't be good for him. She considered talking to mom about it, but decided against it. She didn't want to interfere. She loved her little twerp of a brother, and wanted what was best for him, but getting into his business wasn't what was best for him. She wondered, not for the first time, if having so many girls suffocating him wouldn't make him into a sissy. He was a good brother, and did whatever he could, but being a good brother didn't exclude one from being a sissy. Lynn, as the most masculine one in the house (something their father noted, and deep down hated, if the conversations she'd overheard between her parents were anything to go by) took it upon herself to "toughen" Lincoln up. Lori wasn't sure about that at first, but she couldn't argue with results. Lincoln had gotten much better at sports, and took an active interest it seemed. And where was Leni?

Lori had been done with her pizza for a while. She checked her phone. 5:10. She was about to text her when a man walked up to her.

"Ms.?"

Lori looked up. The man before her was tall and handsome with a narrow face, bushy black hair, and intense eyes. He was wearing a black button-up shirt, the sleeves cuffed and exposing his muscular forearms. On the left one, Lori noticed a snake tattoo.

"Do you own the blue van out back? The one with the smiley face decal on the back window?"

Lori blinked. "Yes."

The man bared his teeth and hissed. "Yeah. I smashed in your back end."

Lori's heart dropped. "You what?"

"A kid ran out in front of me," he said, "it was either him or the van, and I chose the van."

Lori couldn't believe this. Dad was going to freak. Sighing, she got up, and they started walking.

"I'm really sorry," he said profusely, "I'll pay for everything out of pocket. I'll give you my number, insurance, whatever it takes. I just didn't wanna hurt that kid."

Lori bit down a rush of anger. The man led her to where Vanzilla was parked. Next to it was a black panel van.

When Lori saw no damage to the back end, she stopped, confused. That's when the man snaked his arm around her shoulders and jabbed a gun into her stomach.

"Don't make a sound," he said with a crazy little smile. "You come with me and do what I saw, you and your sister are gonna be fine. If you act up..." the man jerked the gun as if to simulate firing.

Lori swallowed hard, her heart jack rabbiting in her chest. She tried to speak but couldn't, so she nodded mutely.

The man smiled. "Good. Now why don't you step into my office?"

The man led her to the van. He opened the side door and forced Lori in, then climbed in after her and slid the door closed. Leni was sitting with her back against the far wall, her hands tied in front of her.

"Sit next to your sister," the man said, and Lori complied.

"Now put out your hands."

Lori did, and the man bound them.

That's when she noticed the driver watching her. It was the rat-faced man. When she looked at him, he flashed a sickly grin. "Surprise."

Done, the gunman squatted down. "Now we're going for a little. You girls up for a ride?"

Lori swallowed again. Next to her, poor Leni shook like a leaf. Lori wanted to reach out and comfort her, but couldn't. Taking a deep breath, she realized she had to be strong. For Leni. And for her.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

The van was already in motion then, already pulling onto the interstate. The mall was shrinking on the horizon. The safe, normal, familiar mall.

The gunman lit a cigarette and blew acrid smoke in her face. "I dunno. Where should we go, Ferret?"

"All the way, Krog" Ferret tittered.

Krog smiled darkly at Lori. "Well, we were gonna take you to our place, but...how about we go to yours?"

Lori's blood turned to ice water.

"Yeah," Ferret said, "I've been dying to get a crack at Luan." He laughed again.

Krog was laughing too. "I wanna get a crack at 'em _all_."

For Lori, the world went gray.


	7. Sprain

Lincoln was just coming out of the bathroom when Lynn appeared at the top of the stairs, hissing and leaning heavily on the bannister. She took a hobbling step forward, almost fell, and let out a strangled cry.

"Are you okay?" Lincoln asked as he rushed over.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied. "Just twisted my ankle."

Lincoln helped her to her room. She sat heavily on the bed, a pained expression crossing her face.

Kneeling, Lincoln rolled Lynn's sock down, and gasped at the angry purple bruise.

"Wow, you really did a number on it. What happened?"

"I was playing street hockey," she said, "and I stepped in a pothole."

Lincoln gingerly touched it, and Lynn jerked.

"It might be broken."

"Nah. It's a sprain. I just need to get off it for a while."

"I'll get you an icepack."

Downstairs, he rummaged in the freezer and found a gel icepack at the very back, under a bag of chicken wings. He also grabbed a glass and filled it with water. In the bathroom, he grabbed two ibuprofen. Lynn was lying down, her foot propped up on a gym bag. Lincoln brought her the water and the pills.

"This should help keep the swelling down."

"Thanks," Lynn replied, tossing the pills into her mouth and downing the entire glass in one gulp. Sighing, she sat it on the nightstand.

Lincoln, moving slowly and carefully so as not to hurt his sister, wrapped the icepack around her ankle. He didn't know much about sports medicine, but he was pretty sure this was more than a simple sprain. Knowing Lynn, she was probably too proud to admit she was really hurt.

 _Meathead jock,_ he thought affectionately.

"I'm still not convinced it's just a sprain," he said.

"I'm telling you, it's a sprain. I've had a million of them."

Lincoln shrugged. "You're the expert."

"Do you need anything else?" Lincoln asked, standing.

"Nah. Just a nap. I'm bushed."

"Alright. I'll leave you alone."

He was at the door when Lynn stopped him. "Lincoln?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

Lincoln smiled. "You're welcome."

"I mean it." Lynn paused. "You're a good brother."

Lincoln went over to her, bent, and kissed her on the forehead. "I'd do anything for you guys. I love you."

They embraced...then Lynn shoved him away. "Alright, that's enough girly, mushy stuff." She was smiling, though.

"If you need anything, call."

In the hallway, he closed Lynn's door and went to Luna's door, which was shut. He knocked.

"Come in."

Lincoln opened the door and poked his head in. Lucy and Luna were sitting on Luna's bed much the same way they had been when he last saw them. Luan was on her own bed, writing on a notepad and pausing to gaze thoughtfully into the ether before starting again.

"What's up, bro?" Luna asked.

"Lynn hurt her ankle pretty bad. I think it's broken but she says it's a sprain."

"Aw, man, is she alright?"

"Yeah, she's lying down. Do me a favor and listen out for her. If she calls, let me know."

"Sure thing."

"Thanks."

In his own bedroom once more, Lincoln left the door open so he could better hear, flopped down on his bed, and started a fresh comic.

 _When you have ten sisters, someone's bound to get hurt sometime._


	8. Even if it Kills You

"What's your name?" Krog asked. He was sitting against the door, his legs splayed in front of him. A cigarette jutted from his mouth. He was wearing sunglasses now, and Lori couldn't decide if they were worse or better than his naked eyes.

"L-Lori," she stammered.

Krog took a drag of his cigarette and blew out a long plume of bluish smoke. "What about your sister?"

Leni, eyes squeezed closed, looked like she had fallen into a coma. She hadn't spoken since they left the mall. She didn't even acknowledge Lori's sputtering attempts to reassure her.

"Leni."

Krog nodded. "Leni. I like that. How old are you?"

"Seventeen. She's sixteen."

A wide grin spread across Krog's face. He glanced at Ferret, and Lori saw the rat-man's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"There's two," Krog said. He took another drag. "How old are your sisters?"

For a moment Lori couldn't remember.

"You don't know how old your sisters are?" Krog asked, his face darkening. "What kind of sister are you?"

"You'd have a hard time remembering too if you were kidnapped by two creeps," Lori said.

Krog uttered a rich laugh. "You hear that, Ferret? She thinks we're creeps."

Ferret tittered madly. "She don't know the half of it."

Krog got to his knees and made his way over to Lori. Lori's heartbeat sped up. Her and her smart mouth.

Krog smacked her, hard. Red pain burst bomblike in her consciousness. Next to her, Leni whimpered.

He grabbed her chin in her hand and drew her face to within inches of his. His breath was rancid and hot against her face.

"I'm going to ask you one more time, sweetie," he said in a low, menacing tone, "how old are your sisters."

Swallowing, Lori listed their ages.

Krog smiled. "Good girl."

He turned to Ferret. "Did you catch that?"

Ferret nodded. "Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. That's five years right there." He tittered. "Then eight, six, six, and four."

"I gotta hand it to you, Ferret," Krog said, looking into Lori's eyes. "You pulled a hell of a haul."

He laughed.

Then moved over to Leni.

"Leave her alone," Lori said sharply, then softened her tone. "Please. Don't hurt her."

Krog ignored her. He stroked Leni's cheek, ran his fingers through her blonde hair. She never opened her eyes, never stopped trembling. Tears streamed down her face now.

"Leni," Krog said softly, tasting it the way a man would taste an aged wine, "Leni, Leni, Leni."

When he kissed her cheek, Lori stiffened. He opened her eyes and looked directly at Lori as he licked the side of her sister's face.

"Stop it, you bastard!"

Moving with the speed of a serpent, Krog grabbed her hair and yanked her head downward. She cried out.

"I'm getting real tired of your shit, you little bitch," he hissed. He produced a razor from his pocket and showed it to her. Her eyes widened, her heart pounded.

Smiling now, Krog held the blade to her cheek. "Hush, little baby, don't say a word," he sang, "or you're in for a world of hurt."

He jerked the knife, and hot, stinging pain shot into Lori's brain. She squealed.

Krog grabbed her by the chin again and cut the other side of her face. He was panting now, his hands shaky. He cut her again and again.

"Stop!" Leni screamed. "Please, just stop!"

As casually as a man swatting a fly, Krog elbowed her in the face. Yelling, she fell over, and wept.

"You and me are gonna have some fun," Krog told Lori. He turned around and rummaged in a metal box. What he brought out made Lori shiver.

A pair of pillars.

Next, he took out a ball gag. Lori thrashed as he put it on her.

"Look at you," Krog said, "pretty little princess."

He took the pillars and nipped her naked arm with them. Lori winced at the pain. He did this several more times, leaving her skin bloody and pockmarked. Next, he took his cigarette, which had gone out, relit it, inhaled, then put it out on Lori's forehead. She screamed against the gag, tears springing to her eyes. Krog smiled.

"We're gonna cure that attitude of yours," he said.

"Even if it kills you."


	9. The Calm Before the Storm

The sun sank over Royal Pines, the sky going first bright orange, then soft purple. The streetlights along Franklin Avenue winked on one-by-one, and kids started making their way home. Dad was in the kitchen thawing meat and cutting onions for dinner. Mom was in the living room, relaxing, and most of the Loud kids were in their bedrooms. Lincoln checked on Lynn periodically throughout the afternoon. The first time he did she was reading a copy of _Sports Illustrated_. When he opened the door, she looked up and grinned. "I'm okay, mom."

"Just making sure."

The second time, she was asleep, softly snoring. Twilight pooled in the room.

Pulling the door softly shut, Lincoln went downstairs and reported to dad.

"I'm sure she'll be fine."

Lincoln started to protest, but dad started singing about dinner, so Lincoln went out back where Lana and Lola were still playing. He sat on the back steps and watched as he silently worried over Lynn. When you have eleven kids, you can't take the time to fuss over every single one of them. Lincoln knew that, but still, he wished dad would take this a little more seriously.

Lana came over and sat next to Lincoln, startling him from his reprieve.

"Hey, Linc, how's it going?" she asked.

"Alright," Lincoln said. "How about you?"

Lana sighed. "The jeep's busted again. I've been working on it for an hour but can't get it right. The tire rod's bent."

The jeep was Lana and Lola's battery operated Power Wheel. It was a hand-me-down from when Luna and Luan were little. It had a million and one things wrong with it, but Lana, who already displayed an aptitude for mechanics, kept it in running order.

"Maybe replace it?" Lincoln suggested.

"Well, duh, but I don't have the part. I have to order it."

For a while, they sat in silence as night drew on around them. The yelling of kids and barking of dogs slowly faded, and the sound of crickets took over. Inside, dad was still prepping for dinner.

"I texted Lori," dad said into the living room. "She hasn't answered."

"They probably got lost in there," mom said. "You know how girls are."

Lincoln grabbed an apple and smuggled it upstairs. Luna and Lucy were sitting outside of Luna and Luan's door.

"That sounds better," Lucy said, "but it could be darker."

Luna sighed. "It's not a funeral, dude. It's a rock song."

"What are you guys doing out here?" Lincoln asked.

"Luan's recording another skit for her website," Luna said, looking thoughtfully at her guitar.

"Ah."

Before heading to his room, Lincoln checked in on Lisa and Lily. Lilly was sitting happily in her crib and playing with a stuffed rabbit. Lisa was bent over a long table crammed with beakers, test tubes, and a whole bunch of other science stuff Lincoln couldn't name.

"Hey, Lisa, how's it going?"

"I am on the verge of a scientific breakthrough," she replied without turning.

"Sweet."

He rattled the bars of Lilly's cage and smiled at her. She giggled and threw herself back on the mattress.

"Well, dad's starting dinner, so hurry it up."

"Understood."

Back in his own room, Lincoln stretched out on his bed and ate his apple. When he was done, he sat the core on the nightstand and pulled out his Nintendo DS.

In the street outside, a black van pulled to the curb and stopped, its headlights going dark. Inside, one of Lincoln Loud's sisters was dead.


	10. Night of Terror: Part I

Ferret parked the van at the curb across from the Loud house and killed the engine, cutting Aerosmith off in the middle of "Same Old Song and Dance." Krog climbed into the passenger seat from the back and lit a cigarette. The smoke was harsh in his lungs.

For a long time, they sat in silence, watching the warmly lit house across the way, the smoke from Krog's cigarette hanging heavy in the still summer air. The only sounds were the occasional dog barking, and the low, constant whimpers rising from the cargo hold. Ferret scratched his crotch and looked at Krog. "Come on," he said, "let me have a swing."

"No," Krog said flatly.

"Come on, Krog. I'm hard again."

"I said no." Krog shot him a menacing look, and Ferret backed down.

Krog didn't want Ferret's dirt paws on Leni. He liked her. She was his.

Krog was a fair man. He gave Lori completely to Ferret.

Taking a deep drag, Krog thought back to the hour they spent parked in the garage across from their apartment, a work light hanging from a hook in the cargo compartment to provide illumination. Krog took Leni, while next to him, Ferret took Lori. The scrawny, rat-faced man yelled and hollered as he conquered Lori, bucking like a cowboy. With Leni, Krog was more quiet. He turned her over so that her face was buried in the matted shag carpet, and whispered sweet nothings to her as he worked. "You're a virgin, aren't you?" he panted at one point. She shuddered and sobbed.

"You are." He laughed. "Biggest dick _you'll_ ever have."

"Only dick she'll ever have," Ferret said, and they laughed.

Krog was so lost in the throes of his orgasm that he didn't notice Ferret strangling Lori until he was pulling his pants up. The teenager's cut and bloodied face was blue and bloated.

"I think you got her," Krog pointed out as he lit a cigarette. Ferret continued choking her, then thrusted into her.

"I ain't done yet."

Krog shook his head and looked down at Leni, who hadn't moved. Her bare butt-cheeks were red and raw. Krog didn't remember slapping them, but he must have.

A few minutes later, Ferret finished with Lori, and rolled off of her. Krog knelt beside her and felt for a pulse.

There was none.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Ferret," he said, "you broke your toy."

"I'm just gettin started," he said.

Krog turned back to Leni. She was facing away from her sister, hitching. Krog grabbed her by the hair and turned her head around. "Say goodbye to your sister," he said, and grinned.

Leni moaned and looked away.

Krog took a long drag and leaned close to her ear. "Don't worry," he whispered, "I'm not like Ferret. I won't break you. Yet."

He yanked up her panties, which had hitherto been around her ankles, and pulled her skirt down. Patting her on the butt, he cuffed her hands behind her back and went over to Lori. Her eyes were open, bulging. Krog looked into them, and wondered what the girl saw. Heaven? Hell? Nothing?

Ferret hopped out of the van and pissed against the wall, moaning contently as he did so. Krog grabbed a beer and cracked it open. He watched Leni as he drank it.

"You thirsty, Leni?" he asked.

She didn't reply.

Krog finished off the beer and grabbed another. He went over to Leni and knelt. "Here," he said, grabbing her by her hair and turning her over. Her eyes were screwed shut, her lips trembling. Krog popped open the beer and poured it on her face. She choked, gagged, and threw her head back and forth. Krog took dark delight in the act.

"Drink up, sweetie," he said with faux tenderness, "we got a long night ahead of us."

Now, Krog watched the façade of the Loud house from the passenger seat of The Murder Machine, a cigarette forgotten between his lips. He saw shadows through the front windows.

"You understand the plan?" Krog asked.

"Yeah," Ferret said, "I got it."

The plan Krog had been formulating all afternoon was brilliant in its simplicity: They were go in, ask to use the phone, and corner the parents. Ferret would back the van into the driveway while Krog tied them up. Ferret would come in with Leni and send her to get her siblings. Once they were all gathered in the living room, the fun would begin.

Krog was sure the Louds would cave to a little strong-arming. Middle class people like them were soft, and would fight back, especially if you could (and would) kill their loved ones.

Krog finished his cigarette and tossed it out the window. He looked at Ferret. "You ready?"

Ferret nodded and grinned. "More than I've ever been."

Krog got out, shut the door behind him, and went around to the back of the van. He opened the double doors, leaned in, and grabbed a backpack. Inside were knives, duct tape, rope, and a hammer. Ferret appeared, and grabbed a wicked looking knife from a drawer, which he then tucked into the back of his pants and hid under his shirt.

Leni was facing them, her eyes still closed.

"You do anything to make me mad," Krog told her, "and I'll kill your entire family. Understand?"

She made no sign that she did.

 _"Understand?"_

She nodded mechanically.

"Good," Krog smiled, and slammed the doors.

"Let me do the talking," Krog said as they crossed the street. Crickets and bullfrogs chirruped. Somewhere down the block, someone yelled and laughed. Traffic sounds drifted from a nearby overpass.

At the front door, Krog took a deep breath and put on his most charming smile. From inside, he could hear a TV. He knocked, shot a look at Ferret that said _Don't fuck this up_ , and waited.

A few moments later, muffled footfalls approached the door. It opened, and a chunky woman with short blonde hair appeared. Krog couldn't help but notice the resemblance to her late daughter. But where Lori was a hardass, mama looked soft.

"I'm sorry to bother you," Krog said, "but my brother's van broke down and my phone is dead. Can...can we use yours? We'll be done in three minutes, Scout's honor."

Krog smiled and held two fingers. That was the scout's salute, wasn't it?

"Sure," the woman smiled, "come in."

Krog nodded his thanks and entered, Ferret behind him. The living room was wide with green carpeting and white walls. Framed pictures hung on the walls. Through an opening, he could see the kitchen. A man in a green sweater and a frilly pink apron was busy fixing the evening meal. Krog couldn't suppress a smile. The only man in the house was a henpecked faggot. Perfect.

"The phone's in my office," the woman said, leading them to a door near the bottom of the stairs. She opened it and snapped on a light.

Krog took stock of the space. A big oaken desk dominated the room. A computer, printer, and several other pieces of equipment Krog didn't recognize crowded the desk's shiny plain. Papers were stacked here and there. Through big bay windows framed by green curtains, Krog could see the street.

"The phone's right there," the woman said, pointing to it.

"Thank you," Krog said, flashing a smile. "I really appreciate it."

The woman went away and Krog pulled the door most of the way closed. "This is easier than I thought it would be," he said, grinning.

Ferret shrugged. "They don't look like they've ever seen guys like us." He tittered.

Krog peeked through the door crack, and saw the woman sitting in an armchair facing the TV. Over the back of the couch, he could only see the top of her blonde head.

"Rip the phone jack outta the wall," Krog said. "And shut those curtains."

Ferret nodded, went over to the phone, and ripped the line out of the phone, then pulled the curtains closed.

Krog poked his head out the door again. "Excuse me, ma'am?"

The woman looked up.

"The phone's not working."

"Okay."

She got up and came over. Krog opened the door, and once she was in, he shut it again and he jabbed the gun into the small of her back.

"Take it easy," he said lowly, "do what we say and no one gets hurt."

She tried to speak, but instead of words, she produced only a shocked, shuddery sigh.

"Watch her while I get papa bear," Krog said.

Ferret pulled out a knife and grinned. "Come here, mama." He wrapped his forearm around her neck and pressed the knife against her side. She closed her eyes and fought to control her breathing. Just like Leni, Krog thought darkly.

Before leaving the office, Krog poked his head out and looked around. The living room was empty. No one was on the stairs. He heard what sounded like the faint strands of a guitar coming from the second floor hall, but other than that, nothing.

He looked back over his shoulder, made sure that Ferret had a handle on Mama Loud, and then slipped into the living room, closing the door behind him.

In the kitchen, he found Mr. Loud slicing a side of uncooked beef into tiny pieces. One of the kids was sitting at the little dinette table near the backdoor, a small blonde girl in overalls and a backwards baseball cap. She was drawing a picture with crayons, focusing on her artwork like it was a patient and she a neurosurgeon.

Papa Loud noticed him. "Hi," he said.

"Hi," Krog smiled. "Your wife said I could get a drink of water. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Papa Loud replied. "Glasses are in the cabinet over the sink."

"Thank you."

Krog got a glass, filled it with water, and drained it. He sat it on the counter and went over to the little girl and bent down.

"What'cha drawing there, sweetie?" he asked.

"A diagram of my jeep," the girl said without looking up. "I have to replace the tire rod, and that means I'm going to have to find a way to open 'er up without breaking the chassis."

Krog chuckled. "That's cute."

He looked over at Papa Loud. He was back to cutting beef.

Making sure no one else had appeared, he pulled the gun out, put it to the little girl's head, and dragged her out of the chair by the back of her overalls.

"Hey!" she cried indignantly.

Krog spun around to face Papa Loud. He turned, and paled when he saw the gun against his daughter's head.

"Take it easy," Krog said softly, "I'm not here to hurt anybody, but I will if I have to, okay?"

Papa Loud opened his mouth, but Krog cut him off.

"Go into your wife's office. I'll be right behind you. If you try anything, I'll blow this little bitch's brains out. Understand?"

"Let me go!" the girl growled, thrashing in Krog's grasp.

"Lana," Papa Loud said cautiously, "do what he says."

"You better listen to your daddy," Krog said. "Because I am _not_ in the mood for games."

He looked at Papa Loud. "Go."

Papa Loud nodded and went to the office. Krog was right behind. When papa opened the door, Krog shoved him in, dragged Lana behind him, and shut the door.

Mama Loud sobbed when she saw the gun against little Lana's head.

"On your knees, asshole," Krog told Papa Loud.

He dropped to his knees.

Mama started to speak, but he cut her off. "It'll be okay, honey. Just do what they say. You too, Lana."

"Get over there next to your mother," Krog said, shoving Lana in her direction. He knelt, took the backpack from Ferret, and took out a length of rope. "Make sure she doesn't try anything, lady," Krog said as he bound Papa's hands. "If she does, I'll kill all of you."

When Papa was immobilized, Krog slapped duct tape over his mouth and made him lie down. Ferret watched, nuzzling against Mama Loud's neck, smelling her hair.

"Mom?" Lana started.

"Shhh," Mama replied. "It'll be alright, baby."

"On your knees, mom," Krog said. Ferret let her go and grabbed Lana by the back of her overalls. He smiled at her.

"You're a cutie."

"Please don't hurt her!" Mama said. It wasn't exactly a shout, but it was too loud for Krog's liking. He punched her in the back of the head and forced her face into the carpet.

"Mom!" Lana yelled.

"Shut that fucking kid up," Krog growled.

Ferret clamped his hand over her mouth and pulled her closer to him. Her head, Krog noticed, just reached his crotch.

"You be quiet, baby doll," Ferret cooed, "or we're going to kill your mommy, your daddy, and all your sisters. Okay?"

Krog worked quickly, wrapping rope around Mama's hands, and taping her mouth shut. When he was done, he got up. "Pull the van in." He smiled down at Mama and Papa. "And bring Leni."

Their eyes widened.

He took hold of Lana's overalls and casually pressed the gun against her forehead. She cringed.

Ferret nodded, peeked out the door, and then disappeared.

"What are you going to do to us?" Lana asked seriously. Her voice was unsteady.

Mama and Papa both were looking at them, furiously moaning against the tape.

"Well," Krog said, "I figure we'll just rob the place and leave. If you're good. If you aren't, we'll rob the place, stab all of you to death, _then_ leave."

Lana gulped.

A few minutes later, Ferret pushed Leni through the door, looking nervously over his shoulder. He closed it behind him.

"Sit down, Leni," Krog said.

Gaze downcast, Leni went over to the desk, sat down, and leaned against it.

"Leni...?" Lana started, worried.

"Do you want us to tie you up too, Lana?" Krog asked. "If not, shut the fuck up and stop talking."

"What next?" Ferret asked.

Krog lit a cigarette and inhaled. He looked over at Leni and then back to Ferret. "It's all up to her."

He went over, knelt beside her, and stroked her cheek. "Leni, I'm going to have you do something for me, okay?"

She made so sign of understanding.

"It'll make the difference whether you and your sisters live or not."

Leni looked up at him. Her eyes were red and hollow. She looked older, as though she had aged twenty-five years in the past three hours.

"Can you do something for me?"

She nodded.

"Okay," Krog said, taking another drag. "I want you to go and get your sisters. Tell them to come downstairs and to bring their cellphones. Does everyone have a cell phone?"

He asked that of the Loud parents. Papa shook his head.

"Lisa, Lola, and Lana don't," Leni said weakly. "And Lilly."

Krog nodded. "Alright. So that leaves Lucy, Lynn, Luan, and Luna, right?"

Leni hesitated, then nodded.

"Alright. If I don't have four cellphones in my hand when you come back, I'm going to start cutting fingers off."

Leni trembled.

Krog untied her hands and stood up. He went over to the Loud parents and made sure their bounds were tight. He then nodded to Ferret. "Leni, go get your sisters. Except Lilly. Lana, come with us."

Before turning the light off and closing the door, Krog looked at the Loud parents. "By the way, I lied. We're going to rape and kill all of them. Nighty-night."

The closing door silenced their frantic, muffled screams.

Leni walked slowly up the stairs, holding the bannister for support. Her ladyparts were sore and chaffed. Her butt still stung from Krog's lashes. She remembered Lori, her face blue and her eyes bulging, and let out a watery sob. She paused, fought to collect herself, and got moving again. She had to be strong. She was the oldest sister now. Her younger siblings needed her like they never had before.

Forcing back tears, she got to the top of the stairs, went over to Luna's door, and opened it. Luna was lying on her bed with a pair of headphones on. Luan was reading a book. Luan looked up, and a look of worry crossed her face.

"Leni...are you okay?"

Leni nodded. She tried to speak, but her lips were quivering, and she knew she would cry. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and whispered, "Mom and dad want you downstairs. Bring your cellphones."

She closed the door and went to Lynn and Lucy's room. Lucy was writing in her notebook while Lynn read from a _Sports Illustrated_.

"Leni," Lynn said, concerned, "what happened? You look like shit."

"Mom and dad want you downstairs," she whispered again. "Bring your cellphones."

She went to Lisa's room and opened the door. The little girl was standing by Lilly's crib with her hands on her hips. Inside, the baby was asleep.

"Shhh," Lisa said, and came to the door. When she saw Leni's face, and the rips in her clothes, she started. "Leni, is something the matter?"

"Go downstairs."

At Lola's room, she found the little girl primping at a mirror. When she saw Leni's reflection, she turned. "What do...?" she trailed off when she saw her big sister's condition. "Are you...?"

"Go downstairs."

She was just opening Lincoln's door when the fog in her brain parted and she remembered the revelation she had gotten earlier, when Krog told her to get her sisters.

Lincoln.

They didn't know about Lincoln.

For the first time since Ferret grabbed her and threw her into the van, something like hope rose within Leni.

She opened the door and poked her head in. Lincoln was reading a comic book.

"Leave me alone," he said without looking up, "I'm almost..."

"Lincoln."

Something in her voice must have caught his attention, for he looked up. When he saw her, he went white. "Oh, my God, Leni, what's wrong?"

"Where's your cellphone?" Leni stammered.

Lincoln blinked. "It's...I think I left it downstairs."

Leni's heart dropped. "Damn it." Tears sprang to her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

He was standing now, coming to her. She grabbed his by his shoulders. "Listen carefully," she said. "There are two very bad men downstairs with guns. They killed Lori and they're going to kill the rest of us."

Lincoln fell back a step as if she had slapped him, his eyes going wide with fright.

"They don't know about you." She tittered, the tears coming faster now. "They don't know about you, so you have to get help. Get out of here and get help. Hurry."

Lincoln tried to talk, but couldn't find the words. Men with guns? Lori...dead? It didn't make any sense. It had to be a dream.

"Go out the window," Leni said.

"I-I can't. It's stuck. Lana was supposed to help me with it."

Leni opened her mouth, but Krog's voice silenced her. He sounded like he was at the bottom of the stairs. "Leni and Lisa Loud, you're needed in the living room."

Leni's eyes went wide. She looked around for something, anything.

"The vents! Get in the vents! Crawl to the basement then go out the hatch."

Before Lincoln could protest, Leni scooped him up and carried him to the air vent over his bed. "Open it!" she hissed.

Coming alive, Lincoln pushed it open and scurried in. Then his face filled the opening. "Leni...I'm scared."

"Don't be," she said, and tried to smile. "it'll be okay."

She hurriedly turned the light off and closed the door. She remembered the yellow and black SISTERS KEEP OUT sign on the door, pulled it down, and shoved it under the door. Now it looked like a linen closet and nothing more.

Heart crashing, she went back down the stairs. Krog was waiting at the bottom, his hands on his hips. When he saw her, he smiled.

"What took you so long, Leni?"

"I...I had to use the bathroom," she lied. "Did Lisa come down?"

He nodded. "Yep. The gang's all here."

Leni breathed a sigh of relief.

 _The gang's all here._

God, Lincoln, hurry.

Krog escorted Leni into the living room. Ferret stood watch over the Loud girls, a sharp knife in his hands. Luna, Lucy, Lynn, and Luan were on the couch, Lynn's ankle wrapped in an Ace bandage. Lana and Lola were perched upon either arm. Lisa sat in Luna's lap, hugging her sister tightly. Leni cringed at the look of terror on her sisters' faces.

She noticed the way Ferret was looking at Luan, his eyes wild and his tongue caressing his chapped bottom lip, and anger rose in her. She must have tensed, because Krog dug his fingers into her shoulder, "Do anything and everyone dies."

When they reached the couch, Krog forced Leni to sit at Luna's feet. He smiled at her and kissed her on the forehead.

Next, he walked over to Ferret and stood next to him. "Good evening, Loud house. I bet you're wondering why you're here. You wanna tell 'em why they're here, Ferret?"

Ferret smiled stupidly. "We're gonna have a party, Krog. A _real_ party."

Krog nodded. "Hear that? We're going to have a little party. Parties are fun, right? You in the purple boots, you look like you party. Do you party?"

Luna glared.

Krog walked over to her. Leni looked up at him. She could reach out and squeeze his nuts to death if she had a mind to.

"Come on," Krog said gently. "What do you have under mattress? Pot? Coke? H?"

"Nothing," Luna said. "For you."

Krog smiled and shook his head. He looked over his shoulder at Ferret. "We got another live one."

Ferret tittered. "You know what happened to the last live one."

Krog nodded. "Why don't we show them?" He got up and went back to the head of the room, his arms outspread like a dark Christ. "Why don't we show them what happens when you get feisty?"

He took the gun out of his waistband, and the Loud girls visibly flinched. Krog laughed and handed the gun to Ferret. "If anyone moves, shoot 'em."

He went to the office, opened the door, and disappeared inside. A moment later, he reappeared with a captive: Papa Loud.

"Dad!" Lynn cried.

"Leave him alone!" Lana.

"Daddy?" Luan.

"Come on, daddy-o," Krog said, "I need you to help me with something."

He led Papa Loud through the living room. He looked at each of his daughters and tried to reassure them, but the tape muffled his voice.

In the kitchen, he opened the door to the attached garage and shoved Papa in. "Be right back!"

He closed the door and marched Papa to the back doors of The Murder Machine. Holding his shirt with one hand, he opened the doors with the other.

When Papa Loud saw Lori sprawled in the cargo compartment, he let out a long, muffled cry, and sagged.

"In we go," Krog said, ignoring him.

When they were inside, Krog made Papa Loud lie face down next to his daughter. His horrified eyes drank in the terrible sight. He started to weep.

"She was feisty," Krog said and he rummaged in what he had come to call "the toybox." "She was tougher than some men I've killed."

He found what he was looking for, and snapped the lid closed. " _I_ didn't kill her, though. That was Ferret. I let him have her, and he let me have Leni."

Krog laughed as he settled down next to Papa Loud's head. He pulled a cigarette out, lit it, and inhaled.

"Ferret has _the_ biggest crush on Luan." He laughed. "It's cute. He's like a little boy. I don't get what he sees in her myself. Braces and an overbite? You know who she reminds me of? Butt-Head. You remember Butt-Head, daddy-o?"

Papa Loud moaned and thrashed.

"I don't normally like them so young, but Lana's cute. She's another feisty one. I guess in a house with so many girls and no sons, some of them have to step up." He took one last puff of his cigarette, and crushed it out on the back of Papa Loud's neck. Papa cried out.

"It's been fun," Krog said, "but I gotta get back inside. If I leave Ferret alone too long he's gonna jump Luan's bones and let the others get away."

He took the hammer from his lap and raised it. "And we can't have that."

He brought it down as hard as he could. Papa Loud jerked. Krog raised the hammer and dropped it again. The back of Papa's head caved in, and dark, rich blood bubbled forth.

Krog flipped the hammer around and hit him with the claw end. When he pulled it out, white shards of bone and pink chunks of brain matter. Papa shook and convulsed. When he was still, Krog climbed out, grabbed Lori by the feet, and slung her over his shoulder. She was a thin girl, but dead weight...what a bitch.

He carried her into the kitchen and kicked the garage door shut behind him. In the living room, he flopped her onto the coffee table, which broke under her weight. The girls each jumped and screamed. When they saw who it was, several of them began to cry.

"That's Lori Loud, in case you don't recognize her," Krog said. He knelt next to the corpse and examined her face. "She was strangled. By hand. It takes...what is it, Ferret, two, three minutes to die from strangulation?"

Ferret tittered. "She lasted five."

"Five?" Krog asked, raising his eyebrows exaggeratedly. He looked at the terrified Loud girls. "Five minutes your sister suffered, gasping for air, getting none. That's what happens when you're a feisty little bitch." He looked directly into Luna's eyes. Some of the fight seemed to have gone from them. Good.

He got up, went over to Ferret, and held his hand out. Ferret looked at him quizzically.

"My gun."

Ferret handed him the gun. Instead of putting it away, he held it in his hand, letting the Loud cunts get a good, long look at it.

"Hey, Ferret, there's a little table in the kitchen. Grab it and bring it in here. Grab a few chairs too."

Ferret nodded and went off. Alone with the girls, Krog checked them out for the first time. Little Lisa was ugly (Ferret could have her), Lola was pretty, the mirror image of her sister but more feminine (he'd probably take them), Luan...Ferret could have her. Luna...she was feisty, and Krog was already kicking himself in the ass for not breaking Lori. He'd probably take her, and Leni. That left Lucy and Lynn.

"What happened to your ankle?" Krog asked.

Lynn, her eyes red, looked off to Krog's left. "I sprained it."

Krog went over. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes."

Krog bought the handle of the gun down on it as hard as he could. Lynn screeched. Krog couldn't help himself: He laughed until he cried. The other Louds screamed and tried to console her. Leni hit him in the knee, and while it didn't hurt, Krog backhanded the shit out of her nevertheless, the impact knocking her over.

"Don't get started without me," Ferret said, lugging the table in. He sat it at the head of the room, then went back into the kitchen for the chairs. He returned with two, sitting on at the head of the table and the other at its right hand.

Krog sat at the head, set the gun down, and lit a cigarette. Just as Ferret was about to sit, Krog stopped him. "Go grab mama bear."

Ferret nodded, went into the office, and marched Mama Loud into the living room. The girls didn't speak this time.

"There she is," Krog said happily. "Cop a squat, mama bear. Ferret and I were just about to get started."

Ferret forced her into the free seat. She turned her head away, and that's when she saw Lori. Her eyes went wide, and she tried to speak.

Krog sighed. Here it comes.

And sure enough, she started to cry.

Krog took a puff from his cigarette and picked up the gun. "Hey," he said, "knock it off or I'll blast Lisa's face off."

Mama froze. Lisa sobbed. Luna glanced at Krog, her expression dangerous.

When mama stopped crying, Krog sat the gun back down at looked at Ferret. "You know what we need? Some music. And some snacks. I'm starved."

Ferret nodded. He grabbed the metal serving bowl he put everyone's cellphones in and selected one. After a few minutes, he pulled up YouTube and asked, "What do you want, Krog?"

"I dunno," Krog said. "Something...sexy."

Ferret tittered, typed something in, and a few minutes later, T. Rex's "Bang a Gong" filtered through the speakers.

"Good boy," Krog said. "Now get some chips or something."

A few minutes later, Ferret returned with a bag of Lay's potato chips, a box of Cheese-Nips, and a plate covered with saran wrap. Underneath were five slices of cold pepperoni pizza.

"Hey, look at this," Krog laughed, ripping off the Saran wrap and throwing it on the floor. "You want a slice, Ferret?"

"I'd rather get started," Ferret said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other like a junkie feening for a hit.

Krog sighed. "You know, you're really impatient, and it's starting to get on my fucking nerves."

"Come on," Ferret whined, "I've been waiting for a _really_ long time."

Krog shook his head. "Alright."

He picked the gun up and pointed in the direction of the Loud girls. "Everyone off the couch and against the wall. Except for you, Luan. Ferret here's been waiting to fuck you for a _really_ long time."

The color drained from Luan's face.

"Like hell I'm moving," Lynn said. "If you want her, you're gonna have to get through me."

Krog smiled. "Is that so?"

He leaned forward and smacked Mama Loud so hard she nearly fell out of the chair.

"Get off that fucking couch and get against the wall or next time I'm gonna bash her head in like I did to your dad."

Lynn's resolve visibly broke. Leni and Luna helped the smaller kids to the wall and sat with them, Leni taking Lucy into her arms and weeping into her bottle black hair. Lynn got up and hobbled after, casting one last, forlorn look at her sister.

Luan looked stricken.

Krog smiled. He ripped the duct tape off Mama Loud's face and slapped a piece of pizza onto the table before here. "Here you go, mom. Dinner and a show."

She wailed. "Please don't hurt my baby."

Ferret looked coyly over his shoulder. "Can I do it now?"

Krog nodded. "Go ahead"

Ferret laughed and advanced on Luan, who looked very small, and very frightened.

"Hey," Krog said.

Ferret looked back, agitated.

"Before you get busy..." he held up the phone, which had stopped playing music. "How do you work this goddamn thing?"

"Just...type in what you wanna hear."

"Ah," Krog nodded.

He pulled up Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get it On," sat the phone down on the table, and grabbed another slice of pizza.

"Just watch," he told Mama Loud around a mouthful of food. "This is gonna be good."


	11. Intermission

I'm working on the final two chapters of "The Last Loud House on the Left." John Krog and James "Ferret" Murphey are holding the Loud girls captive in their own home while Lincoln, undetected, tries to escape through the vents. It might be a little while before I'm done, so make sure to favorite and follow so you're alerted when they are posted. Which Louds live? Which Louds die? Find out in the next chapter "Night of Terror: Part II."


	12. Night of Terror: Part II

For a long time, Lincoln Loud sat in the darkened air vent over his room, his mind whirling with what Leni had told him. Bad men with guns. Lori dead. It was a dream, he told himself as he fought to control his breathing, just a bad dream. Soon he would wake up and everything would be normal. Lori and Leni would be home from the mall, dinner would be ready, and he would choke down dad's awful goulash surrounded by his loving family.

The dust tickling his nose, and the sweat beads trickling down his face and back, however, told him that it wasn't a dream. It was real. His family was really in danger. Lori was really...he choked back a sob at the thought.

After the realization that this was really happening sank in, Lincoln was more scared than he had ever been in his young life. His parents and his sisters were in terrible danger, and they were counting on him to get help. It weighed so heavily upon him that he nearly collapsed. He was an eleven-year-old boy, for Christ sake! And a scrawny, unathletic one at that. What could he do?

 _The basement. I have to get to the basement._

He wasn't sure if he could get to the basement through the vents. He'd never been in there before. If Lucy was here, she'd know what to do, since she loved playing in them, but she wasn't. She was probably being hacked into pieces while her big brother, her supposed protector, was frozen with fear.

That thought spurred him on, and he began crawling right. If his guestimates were correct, this shaft would take him over the hall and to the bathroom.

He moved slowly, making as little noise as humanly possible. His passage stirred up clouds of dust, and he fought to keep from sneezing and alerting the bad guys to his presence. The way was unlighted. He held his hand within inches of his face and could not see it. As he moved, he trailed one hand along the slick, metallic wall in case he missed the entrance to another shaft. After what he judged to be a hundred feet, he came to a dead end, and panic rose within him. He frantically felt along the wall, finding nothing. _Come on._

There. An opening. Moving slowly, he crawled into the new corridor, and could feel it sloping downward. This had to be the way to the basement.

Several minutes after entering the new shaft, he heard someone scream, and froze. He strained to listen, but didn't hear anything else. Imagining his sisters being butchered, he hurried his pace, still going slow enough that he didn't make too much noise. The shaft continued its downward angle before reaching a dead end. He felt for another passage, found it, and followed it. At a grate, he looked down into the kitchen. As he watched, a man he didn't recognize entered, picked up the table, and disappeared with it.

"Don't get started without me," he heard the man say, his voice coming from the living room. He could also hear the sounds of another man laughing. Lincoln's blood boiled. What were the bastards doing?

 _Go! You aren't helping them by staying here!_

Gritting his teeth against the rage inside, Lincoln followed the shaft to another. To the right, it continued back into the house. To the left, however, he sensed a drop. His hand reached out into nothing, grabbing only darkness. He stopped and tried to chart a course. Depending on how far the drop was, he could jump, but he'd probably make enough noise to wake the dead. And where did the drop lead? Did it open in the basement, or did it open on another shaft?

Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled out a dime and dropped it over the edge. Judging by the time it took to hit bottom, he figured the drop was less than ten feet.

Scooting on his butt now, he dangled his legs over the hole and felt along its dimensions with his hands. It was just narrow enough that if he was careful, he could climb down.

Easing himself in, Lincoln spread his arms, making himself bigger. His elbows ground into the metal, scraping his flesh. He bared down on his teeth, tears springing to his eyes. He felt himself beginning to drop, and jammed his feet out. His back screamed and his shirt ripped. The pain in his elbows was unbearable. He felt like they were being burned by flames.

Giving up, he dropped the last five feet, landing on a cold, concrete floor. He was in the basement. Above him, the gaping shaft seemed to wink in the darkness.

Lincoln checked his elbows. They were both raw and bloody, but that wasn't important right now. He fumbled for the steps leading to the hatchway, found them, and tried the door.

It wouldn't budge.

 _No!_

He tried again, but it didn't move. He remembered that dad padlocked it from the outside to keep anyone from breaking in. Now it was keeping _him_ from breaking out.

Lincoln fought the dark urge to give in to his panic. He couldn't get out that way. Where _could_ he get out?

He looked around. There was a window, but it was too small for him to get through.

There, above an old wardrobe, another vent. If he could get back to the shaft he started in, he could come out in Luna's or Lori's room and then jump out the window.

Resolved, he went over to the warbrode and climbed it like a monkey climbing a tree. When he was at the top, he reached up, removed the grate, and scurried back into the vents.

 _Right,_ he thought, and started crawling.

John Krog happily ate pizza as Ferret climbed on top of Luan, planting his knees on either side of her, and pushed her against the back of the couch. Mama Loud was moaning and looking away, muttering so softly that Krog couldn't make out any words.

Luan thrashed and shook her head, screaming for him to stop. She put her arms up, but he shoved them away and smacked her as hard as he could.

"Ooo, shit," Krog laughed, and cracked a beer. "Did you see that, mom? Your boy's a regular Mike Tyson!"

"Stop!" Luan cried, the tears beginning. "Please, stop!"

Mama Loud was blubbering. "My baby...please."

"Don't worry, mom," Krog said, taking a drink of beer. "One of us is going to get around to fucking you tonight."

"It's not going to be me," Ferret grinned over his shoulder. "I got what I want."

He started kissing Luan's face and neck. Her tiny fists pounded his back, but he didn't seem to mind. Against the wall, the others siblings either had their eyes closed, were looking away, or were busy consoling each other.

"You be good to me, little girl, and I'll be good to you," Ferret panted. He leaned back and ripped off his belt, throwing it into the crowd of Louds.

He shoved Luan down, so that she was lying lengthwise on the couch. He shot his hand under her skirt, and pulled her underwear off.

"I got 'em!" he laughed, holding them up like a trophy. "Krog, catch!"

He threw them, and Krog snatched them out of the air and lifted them to his nose. "Nice," he nodded, then wiped the pizza sauce off his mouth with them and then threw them at Luna, who was forehead-to-forehead with Lisa.

Luan was still thrashing underneath Ferret. With one hand, he pulled his pants down until his ass was bare.

Krog leaned close to Mama Loud. "You better tell her to do as he says. When Ferret gets angry, he gets violent."

Mama Loud sobbed. "Do-Do what he says, Luan."

Despite her mother's pleas, Luan's knees were firmly clamped together. "Luan," Krog said, "open those legs, honey. If you don't I'll let Ferret hit you again."

She threw her head in his direction. Ferret was kissing her neck, biting her ear, licking the side of her face. She looked horrified, but also...angry?

Krog knew how to fix this. He reached into his pocket, brought out the same razor he used on Lori, and swiped it across Mama Loud's face. A thin crimson streak appeared along her right cheek. She cried out.

"No!" Luan wailed, and opened her legs. Ferret grunted as he entered her.

"That's a good girl," Krog said, leaning back. He picked up the last slice of pizza and took a bite. "Just remember: You never forget your first time."

Luan was still facing him. Her eyes were closed and her face screwed up in an expression of misery. With each of Ferret's thrust, she shook.

"Say 'I love you, Ferret'" Krog said.

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

"Say 'I love you, Ferret.'"

"I-I love you, Ferret," the girl whispered.

Instead of replying vocally, Ferret gave one last thrust and shuddered, unthinkingly grabbing Luan's hair in both hands and pulling.

For a long moment, Ferret stayed where he was, panting and gazing down at the side of Luan's head. Then he kissed her and rolled up, pulling his jeans up as he did.

Krog clapped. "Bravo," he said, and looked around the room. "Come on, let's give Ferret a round of applause."

Mama Loud couldn't, because her hands were bound, but the others did, clapping weakly and unenthusiastically. Ferret took a deep bow. "Thank you, thank you."

Luan drew herself into a sitting positon, pulled her knees to her chest, and hugged them tightly. Her face was red and wet. For a moment, Krog thought she'd buck up, but then she turned away and started weeping.

"Luan, baby," Mama said, "it's okay..."

She turned to Krog. "Please...please let me go to her. I'll do anything." Her voice broke on the last word. Unshed tears shone wetly in her eyes. "Just let me hold my daughter."

"Nope, sorry," Krog said. He lit a cigarette. "I'd love to, but the party's not over." He reached for the phone, hit a button, and nodded. "It's barely ten 'o'clock. Why..."

Krog saw movement from the corner of his eye. Just as he turned, Lynn slammed into Ferret and knocked him forward, but not down.

"Fucking bitch!" Krog hissed. He sprang up, grabbed Ferret by the front of his shirt, and threw him aside, causing Lynn to fall. He reared back his leg and kicked her square in the face. Everyone screamed and shouted.

Her nose and teeth broke wetly. Luna jumped up and tried to help, but Krog elbowed her in the side of the head and knocked her down.

Krog kicked Lynn once, twice, three more times. All Lynn could do was curl up and try to protect herself.

Shaking with sudden rage, Krog dropped to his knees, grabbed the teenager by the front of her shirt, and jabbed his finger in her face. "I oughta fucking kill you!"

From the corner of his eye, he saw Leni move.

"Don't even think about it, Leni, or I'll cut her fucking throat."

Krog got up and looked at the Loud girls. "Take your fucking sister." He went over to the chair and sat down. Still trembling, he stabbed his cigarette out on the surface of the table and lit a fresh one. Ferret was standing by, looking unsure.

"You know, I try to throw a nice party, and this is what I get." Krog shook his head. "Two ungrateful bitches."

He chuckled humorlessly.

"Come here, Luna."

Luna, her hand pressed against her bruised face, looked up, reminding Krog of a doe in the headlights.

Krog nodded. "Yes, stupid, you. Come here."

Leni squeezed Luna's shoulder, and Lola threw her arms around her neck. Lynn was lying on her back, in and out of consciousness, with Lucy on one side and Lisa on the other. Her face was covered in blood.

"I'm not going to ask again."

Luna nodded to her sisters, and got up. She came to him the way a man approaches the electric chair.

"Sit down," Krog said, nodding to his lap.

Eyes downcast, Luna sat, facing away from him.

"It's not very polite to treat your guests like that," Krog explained as he rubbed her leg. He leaned closer to her ear. "Now is it?"

He was cupping her left breast now. He rubbed it gently through her shirt. Without looking at him, she shook her head. "No."

"What do you say?"

"S-Sorry."

"Atta girl," Krog smiled. He slipped his hand up her shirt, trailed his fingers along her stomach, and took her bare breast in his hand. It was small and pert. He pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and she yelped.

Krog laughed, and kissed the gentle slope of her neck. She smelled good. So good.

"You should always treat your guests with hospitality," Krog said. He was hard now, his penis throbbing against his jeans. He ran his hand up her bare leg and nibbled her ear. She shuddered. "Pretend we're in the south. Okay, sweetie?"

Mama Loud closed her eyes and tried to bury her head in her chest. "You might wanna take notes, mom," Krog said. "See how a real man does."

He slid his hand up Luna's thigh and tugged at her underwear. With a sigh, she lifted up and pulled them down.

"Good girl," Krog said, and touched her between her legs. Ferret tittered.

Luna knew what would happen if she resisted, so, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, she opened her legs, allowing Krug better access.

"Please stop," Mama Loud said.

"It's okay, mom," Luna said.

Krog shoved his fingers into her, and she jumped. He laughed.

With his free hand, he undid his belt and pulled his pants down just far enough to allow his rigid penis to pop out. Without being told, Luna lifted up, then sank herself onto him. Krog made a small noise in the back of his throat. She felt good. Like warm, wet velvet.

Wordlessly, Luna grinded herself against him. He buried his face in her neck and nipped her flesh. She let out a squeak.

"You've done this before," Krog panted, "haven't you?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Slut."

She stiffened, but didn't stop.

"Bounce," Krog said. He put the knife to her throat and bit down on her shoulder. "Daddy likes it fast."

She did as she was told, increasing her speed. Krog kept the knife to her neck, taking it away only when he came.

For a moment, he sat where he was, panting. Then he shoved her away and pulled up his pants. "Get over there with your sisters," he said. "By the looks of it, Lynny-Lynn doesn't have much time."

Luna got up and shuffled over to her waiting sisters, who tearfully embraced her one-by-one.

Krog shook a cigarette out of the pack and lit it. "What's the score, Ferret?"

"You got fifteen and sixteen, I got fourteen and seventeen."

Krog nodded appreciatively. "Not bad for one night." He got up. "Hey, mom, where's the pisser?"

"O-Off the kitchen."

Krog saluted her, and went into the kitchen. He found the bathroom, pissed, and came out.

That's when he noticed the cell-phone on the counter.

He picked it up and looked at it. Dad must have left it behind. He pocketed it and went back into the living room.

In the vents, Lincoln Loud silently cursed, and moved away from the grate overlooking the kitchen. He started to cry.

For what seemed like hours, he had been lost in the ductwork, hitting dead ends, doubling back, and passing through shafts he'd passed through already. He thought he knew where he was going, but after a few wrong turns, he might as well have been in Timbuktu. He would have stopped and wallowed in his own fear and failure, but his sisters needed him. If he didn't find a way out of here soon, they would die, and that thought brought tears to Lincoln's eyes. He loved them so much. He would do anything for them. Anything.

Just then, he came to a familiar junction, and then to a vent looking down into the kitchen. Yes! He really did know where he was this time. If he kept going, he would be on the second floor in no time. Then he could jump out a window and get the police.

Looking into the kitchen, Lincoln spotted his cell-phone on the counter, and his heart leapt. If he could drop down and grab it without being seen or heard, he could hide, call the cops, and then wait while making sure his sisters were okay. If he had to sacrifice himself to keep them safe, he would.

What stopped him was the knowledge that the living room and the kitchen were open to one another. Anyone in the living room would have a clear view inside. No matter how quiet he was, or how fast he was, the risk of being seen was too high. He'd be no good to his sisters if he was tied up next to them.

That's when the man appeared, and Lincoln started, his breath catching in his throat. This wasn't the man from before, but a different one, tall and thin with messy black hair. He disappeared into the bathroom, came out, and noticed the phone. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands.

 _Damn it!_

That phone was evidence to the existence of Lincoln Loud, and Lincoln knew that that was a bad thing.

He thought of the pictures in the living room and on the wall along the staircase. Didn't they see any of him? Lincoln knew they were there, and while you could get lost in the middle of ten sisters, you weren't literally invisible.

Lincoln shook his head. That didn't matter right now. What mattered was getting out of here and getting help.

Ferret was sitting close to Luan on the couch when Krog returned. She was still hugging her knees and trembling. With a smile, Ferret stroked her hair.

"You already got fourteen," Krog said as he sat. "Remember?"

"I like Luan."

"She _is_ kind of cute." He put his cigarette out on the table. "I didn't think so at first, but she grows on you."

"I wanted her the first time I saw her."

"Because you're a pedophile."

Ferret laughed and looked at Krog. "Shhh. They might hear you."

Ferret started kissing Luan's face and neck again. She made no attempt to fight him off. Instead, she seemed to make every effort to ball up and disappear.

"Why don't you fuck one of the other ones?" Krog asked, suddenly annoyed. "We got 'em here, so why not?" He looked at the Loud girls on the floor. They were huddled together. "Which one's thirteen?"

None of them replied.

"Who's thirteen?"

"I am," Lynn moaned. She was sitting against the wall between Lisa and Lucy. Krog noticed her there, of course, but it didn't register that it was her, Little Miss Broken Nose Bitch. The lower half of her face was crusted with blood, and an angry blackish-purple bruise had already started forming on her face.

"There you go. Check another one off the list."

"I don't want to."

"I don't fucking care what you want," Krog flashed. "We made a plan and we're gonna stick to it. That's why we're here. There's one more teen year we don't have. Go and get it."

Ferret shook his entire body in a display of important rage and got up.

"That's right," Krog said, "throw a fit."

"I want Luan."

Krog sighed. "Alright. How about this: When we leave, we'll take her with us."

Ferret's eyes lit up. "Yeah?"

Krog grinned. "Sure. You're gonna have to share, though."

Ferret smiled. "Alright. Fine by me. Which one's thirteen?"

Lynn lifted her hand and then let it flop back into her lap.

Ferret's shoulders sagged. "She's all bloody."

"So?"  
Ferret looked at him. "I can't fuck a blood-face."

"You can fuck a dead body like you did with Lori-loo over there, but you can't fuck a live girl 'cause she has _blood_ on her face? What kind of hang-up is _that_?"

Ferret shrugged.

"Just do it," Krog said.

Ferret went to her, dragging his feet.

"Leni," Krog said. "Come here."

Leni, holding Lana and Lola in her either arm, looked up at him, fear crossing her face.

"Come here," Krog said softly, leaning forward. "I'm not going to hurt you. Promise."

"Leni?" Lana said, looking up at her big sister.

"Don't go," Lola whispered, sounding like a lost little girl and not a beauty queen at all.

"It's okay," Leni sighed. She got up and went to Krog.

"Here," he said, "sit on my lap."

With one final glance at her sisters (and a strained smile), she sat.

"Please let them go," Mama Loud said, finding the energy to speak for the first time in a while. "Take me. Take me. Do whatever you want to me, just let them go. Please, Mr. Krog. I'm begging you."

"I'm not going to hurt her," Krog said, taking a long strand of Leni's hair between his fore-and-middle fingers and stroking it. "I like Leni. And Ferret's not going to hurt Lynn."

"She's in good hands, Missus Loud," Ferret said as he dropped the girl on the couch. Luan made no attempt to move. She clung to her corner, staring sightlessly ahead.

"Please, don't," Mama Loud said again.

"Shut up," Krog said firmly, then turned his attention back to Leni. "May I have this dance?"

Leni nodded rustily. "Y-Yeah. Totally."

Krog laughed. He pushed her off and got up. He then took her violently into his arms, pressing her close to him. He buried his face in her hand and started rocking her back and forth.

"Oh, sweet pea, come on and dance with me," he sang softly into her ear, "come on, come on, come on and dance with me."

He spun her around and grabbed her ass with both hands.

"Oh, sweet pea, won't you be my girl? Won' you, won't you, won't you be my girl?"

On the couch, Lynn cried out as Ferret entered her. Mama Loud screamed. Krog reached out scratched her across the face.

Leni broke down and wept. She was dead weight in Krog's arms, but he dragged her through the dance anyway.

"You look beautiful in the light," Krog said, and looked up.

Lincoln Loud watched through the vent as Leni sat stiffly in the man's lap. His heart was fluttering, his stomach sick. The man stroked Leni's hair and said, "I'm not going to hurt her. I like Leni. And Ferret's not going to hurt Lynn."

Lincoln swallowed as he watched the man take Leni in his arms and lead her on a silent dance. Lynn cried out from somewhere Lincoln couldn't see. Mom screamed.

Leni and the man came back into view. He whispered something Lincoln couldn't hear, then looked up.

Their eyes locked.

For a moment, Krog was frozen. Then he came to life. He shoved Leni away so violently that she fell to the ground.

"Who the fuck is that?"

"What?" Ferret asked, looking over his shoulder mid-thrust.

"There's someone in the vent!"

"You're crazy."

Krog grabbed the gun and jammed it against Mama Loud's head. "Come out here right now, you son of a bitch, or I'll blow her brains out!"

"Go, Lincoln!" Leni cried from the floor. "Run!"

Ferret jumped off of Lynn and hurriedly zipped his pants up. Krog watched as the face disappeared from the vent, then he heard banging as whoever it was hurriedly fled toward the stairs.

"What's going on?" Ferret asked.

"There's someone else here!" Krog roared. He whipped the gun around and shoved it into Ferret's face. Ferret paled and fell back a step, throwing his hands up. "A boy! You didn't tell me they had a son!"

"I didn't know! Honest!"

Krog seethed. The little bastard called his bluff.

"Watch them!" he shouldered past Ferret and went for the stairs.

Lincoln's heart thundered in his chest. He reached an intersection, and chose the path angling up. He heard the man yelling. He winced, expecting to hear a gunshot and screams, but none came.

What was he going to do? The man knew he was there and was going to be looking for him. Though Lincoln could hear nothing over the drumming of his own heart, he knew he was making enough noise to lead the man right to him. Panic gripped his heart and threatened to overwhelm him. He had to get away. He had to help his family.

He entered the shaft running along the second-floor ceiling just as a realization struck him. His dad kept a handgun in his bedroom closet.

Before Lincoln and his sisters were born, his father was an avid target shooter. He wasn't very good, but he enjoyed it nevertheless. When he married mom, she made him give it up, but let him keep the gun "for self-defense." Lincoln only knew about it because one rainy Saturday when he and his sisters were playing hide-and-seek, he hid in his parents' closet and accidentally knocked it off the shelf. After that, dad kept the bedroom door locked. If he could get to it...

...what?

Pushing that thought aside, Lincoln scurried as quickly as he could toward his parents' bedroom, pausing at each grate to look down. When he saw Luna's room, he knew he went too far, and doubled back.

At the grate opening to his parents' bedroom, he stopped, took a deep, shuddery breath, and tried to lift it.

It wouldn't budge.

Damn it!

Bracing his arms against the walls of the shaft, he brought his foot down on it once, twice, three times, his body trembling and his bowels turning to water. He could hear the man on the second floor now.

When the grate let loose, Lincoln dropped through feet first, landing on his parents' bed, bounced off, and thudded against the floor.

"I hear you, you little faggot!" the man yelled. His footsteps were as loud as bombblasts.

On the verge of hysteria, Lincoln got up, ripped open the closet door, and yanked the pull-cord, filling the small space with murky light. The shelf was too high for him to reach alone. No, no, no. He frantically looked for something to stand on. There! A travel suitcase. Lincoln knocked it over and stepped on it. God, he hoped the gun was still there.

For a frightening moment, he didn't see it, and almost cried out. Then he spied it, pushed back against the wall, a revolver with a dull grip and tarnished body. He reached for it just as the man started pounding on the bedroom door, his fingers brushing the handle.

 _Come on! Come on! Come on!_

The door flew open and slammed against the wall.

Krog was here.

Ferret held the knife shakily in his hand, suddenly attuned to every noise. He stood by the couch, close to the Loud girls, in case they tried anything. He was ready to bolt at the slightest hint of real trouble, fuck Krog. Krog might call him bad names and say he was a coward, but Krog didn't know what it was like for a child molester in prison. Krog didn't have a big red target on his back, Krog didn't get beaten and raped on a weekly basis while the guards watched. For Krog, prison was a pain in the ass. For James Murphey, it was hell on earth.

He was so worried about being caught, that he didn't notice Leni looking at Lynn and nodding, didn't see Lynn gently slap Luan's leg, didn't see Luan come alive for the first time since being raped.

Moving slowly so as not to attract attention, Leni took the sunglasses from her head and threw them toward the kitchen. When they clattered to the floor, Ferret jumped.

That's when Luan sprang on him, sinking her teeth into the naked flesh of his left arm. Simultaneously, Lynn's fist shot out, catching him square in the testicles. The air left him, and he stumbled back, tripping over Lori's body and crashing to the floor.

"Leni!" Mama Loud shouted. "Get the girls out of here!"

Nodding, Leni gathered the youngest girls up and started for the door. Meanwhile, Luan was on top of Ferret, raining blows on his face and screeching like a crazed cat. Ferret backhanded her away. Blood trickled down her mouth as she landed in a heap on the floor.

Rolling to his side, Ferret was greeted by the sight of a purple boot arcing through the air. When it struck his face, he screamed, his nose smashing.

"Luan!" Mama screamed. "Untie me!"

Instead, Luan, panting like a beast on the verge of a kill, picked the knife up off the floor and threw herself once more at the object of her hate. When the blade sank into his lungs, Ferret screamed. Only it wasn't a scream at all, but a wet, bloody gurgle.

Krog raged through the second floor of the Loud house, punching the walls, yelling, and shaking like a time bomb ready to blow.

They have a son, he thought darkly, then laughed. They have a fucking son! Why didn't Ferret know this? He was their garbage man for eight months. He knew everything about everyone...except the son.

He should have known Ferret would fuck this up somehow. Goddamn it, he should have known! Why did he go along with this plan? You never, ever go along with any plan you didn't make yourself. He fucking knew that.

His dick, that's why. He was thinking with his dick.

A loud banging stopped him in his tracks. It was coming from down the hall. This was followed by a metallic shriek and a thud.

"I hear you, you little faggot!" Krog growled. He ran down the hall and threw open a door. A room. Two beds. Dark. Empty. Shit.

He moved to the next door and tried the knob. It was locked. Shifting the gun to his right hand, he drew back his left but froze when he heard a commotion downstairs.

"Leni!" he heard Mama Loud yell, "get the girls out of here!"

Fuck! Where the fuck was Ferret? Krog couldn't believe this. The retard couldn't even handle a couple teenage girls by himself.

Krog briefly considered running back downstairs and restoring order, but the time for that was passed.

He pounded on the door. _I'll kill the little troublemaker then go,_ he thought. He tried to remember if Ferret left the keys in the van, but didn't know. He might have to shoot his way out after all. Damn it.

Even madder, Krog reared back and kicked the door, aiming for the handle. It flew open and slammed against the wall.

"Where are you?" Krog yelled. He looked up, saw the open grate, and shivered. "I know you're in here, you cocksucker. Come out."

He tucked the gun into the back of his pants and reached for the knife, but stopped. He wanted to do this one by hand.

He knelt down by the bed, but stopped when he saw the dim crack of light under the closet door. He smiled.

"You're in the closet, aren't you?"

He got up and went over to it. He reached for the knob, but stopped and knocked instead. "Hello? Is anybody home?"

He turned the knob back and forth.

"Can I come in?"

He opened the door.

Lincoln held the gun the way he'd seen cops on TV hold them: Arms outstretched, the free hand cupped under the gun hand. His breath came in ragged gasps. When he heard the man ask him if he was in the closet, he suddenly remembered the safety. He clicked it off and held the gun out once more. His stomach was rolling. He felt like he was going to be sick.

The man knocked. "Hello? Is anybody home?"

Lincoln swallowed.

The knob rattled.

"Can I come in?"

Lincoln's arms shook.

The door opened, and the man was there. His devilish smile fell when he saw the gun.

Lincoln pulled the trigger, and the gun spoke, knocking him back. The man half-spun and fell onto the bed. Lincoln scrambled to his feet. The man was moaning. He pushed himself up on his hands and knees. Gritting his teeth, hatred flowing through him, Lincoln aimed the gun and fired again, and again he went down. When he got back up, the man was still.

John Krog did a lot of thinking as he bled to death on that bed.

Before he finally drifted off, he decided that it was Ferret's fault.

All Ferret's fault.


	13. Conclusion

Physical wounds healed quickly. Lynn's nose was forever misshapen, and her jawline was different, lumpier. Cuts became scars, and tears mended. The mental trauma took longer. Luan laughed less. Lincoln had nightmares every night for years about his confrontation with Krog, only this time, the gun clicked uselessly. He would wake from these dreams panting and covered in sweat. Mom became more protective, smothering even, and while everyone knew why, it still grated on them, which led to arguments.

Starting in his twentieth year, Lincoln visited the graves of John Krog and James Murphey annually, just to piss on their tombstones. A rumor Lincoln read online once stated that the paramedics could have saved Ferret, but chose not to. Lincoln hoped it was.

He hoped it was.


End file.
